Mama never said there'd be days like these

OK, I told you I'd be back. Due to the miracle of Excedrin Migraine I am now back to walking and talking, as opposed to stumbling toward my bed, moaning in agony, praying to pass into a coma.


Anyway, about Portland. We rented this great house, which you can read all about on my sister's blog. If you are 15 years old and reading this blog (unlikely) and you hate your siblings most days, or fight with them endlessly and look forward to the day when you can live your own life unencumbered by the family you didn't get to choose, then just wait. Because there will come a day, say in your 4th decade, when you can spend a week in the close company of said siblings and feel like they are your best friends.





Yes, we checked out the Rose Festival Parade and the Dragon Boat races on the river. We wandered through the Portland Rose Garden and got inspired to fill the yard at home with roses. We took the streetcar into the Pearl District to shop and eat, and drove to the Oregon coast to dip our toes in the freezing surf, stopping at Camp 18 for breakfast.










But the best moments were the simpler moments. Singing around the piano in the rented house. Walking a couple of blocks to Imago Dei to attend a Sunday service. Hiking a trail near the coast and discussing and debating God and the necessity of Jesus Christ. (OK-for that discussion I was just listening, given that I could barely catch my breath due to the steep slope of the trail).


Then there were the moments of insanity like when I decided it would be a good idea to ride a carnival ride with my daughter, nieces and nephew and brother. There were moments I thought I was going to meet my maker. And if I had, He would have slapped me upside the head and asked me what I was thinking!





For the record, I did NOT join my nieces on this ride. Although they say it was easier than the ride I chose.





Another perfect hour was spent at Arleta's Library, ("Because Good Food is Long Overdue") a local restaurant around the block from my brother's house. I'm not sure what made this a highlight of our trip. Maybe it was the care that my brother's partner, Rudy, took with planning the menu, or the fact that we had the tiny diner to ourselves with the cook working his magic before our eyes as he laid out the gourmet spread on the simple, ancient counter.


So mothers of warring siblings, take heart. There will be days like these for your children, if you resist the temptation to murder them in their sleep while they are young.